


Whisper in the Dark

by Evandar



Series: Tolkien Drabbles [7]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-03 03:07:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11523249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evandar/pseuds/Evandar
Summary: His lover cloaks himself in shadows. He should feel vulnerable, but his hidden lover has never harmed him. Not once.





	Whisper in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lunarium](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/gifts).



> Hope you don't mind the late treat!

He wakes in absolute darkness. A weight lingers over him, long hair tickling at his face. He sighs softly and reaches for his lover's hidden form, feeling soft fabric and the cold iron of armour. 

"You will not let me see you?" he asks. 

"Not tonight," his lover says - much as he says every night. 

They are wed in the eyes of Eru alone, for he is the only witness to their union. Makalaurë barely counts for all that he has been present for it: his lover cloaks himself in shadows he cannot hope to penetrate. 

 

Hands slide beneath his night shirt. His lover is always warm and he wears rings on his fingers that catch on Makalaurë's flesh and make his pleasure sting. His breath is hot as dragon fire and his kisses scorch. 

Beneath him, Makalaurë shifts. He parts his legs and arches his back; tilts his head back as lips press fiery kisses down the length of his throat. He should feel vulnerable, but his hidden lover has never harmed him. Not once. Despite the darkness that clings to him and the cruel nails that score lines over his soft skin. He feels safe with his beloved. 

 

His body aches as he is opened. A cry wrenches itself from his lips and he feels his lover smile against his skin. 

"Sing, my love," his beloved tells him. A whisper in the dark. "Sing for me."

He is still dressed, save for where their bodies join. Makalaurë can feel cloth and leather between his thighs; iron under his fingers. He breathes deep his lover's scent - one of fire and metal - and he winds his fingers into soft hair. 

His beloved moves carefully, thrusting slow and deep into Makalaurë's body, and he obeys. He sings pleasure to the darkness.

 

 

"I would sing better," he says, "if I knew your name."

"You know it," his lover says, thrusting hard enough to lift him from the bed. The change of pace knocks the air from Makalaurë's lungs, makes his head swim. He clings on harder, tries not to think of the name he knows - he _knows_ \- belongs to one who should not treat him so tenderly. 

He drags his lover down and kisses him fiercely, meeting every thrust eagerly. Their rhythm grows ragged. A jewelled hand snakes between their bodies and one last cry of pleasure escapes him. 

"Sauron!"


End file.
